


And the truth will set you free...

by kellsbells



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: B&W Holiday Gift Exchange 2015, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:10:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5506061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellsbells/pseuds/kellsbells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HG is on a retrieval with Myka when something goes wrong, and they are forced to spend Christmas together in a luxurious hotel. (The things I put these ladies through...) There may be, potentially, a few tropes here. This is for @escapism-artist on Tumblr as part of the B&W Holiday Gift Exchange 2015</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the truth will set you free...

It was 3.18 in the morning. Helena’s body was aching, and parts of it more than aching. She had clearly been injured, but she couldn’t remember how. The alarm clock in the room was providing the only light – and helpful information about the time – but sadly it wasn’t illuminating her as to how she had come to be here. Wherever here was.

Soft breathing came from her left. She was in bed with someone. Curiouser and curiouser. She hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since Giselle, not even on an artefact hunt. She had used her considerable financial resources to upgrade her lodgings wherever they stayed – not because of any sort of snobbery, but simply because it was so difficult to stay in the same room with Myka now. To be stuck in a small room with the woman she’d been in love with since before Yellowstone? That would have been hellish. When Helena returned to the Warehouse, Myka and Pete had just ended their relationship, thank the gods. But now Myka was dating a young man from Sioux Falls who taught at a nearby university. His name was Brandon and he was tall and ruggedly handsome and extremely likeable. Naturally, Helena abhorred everything about him. She and Myka still chatted about literature and played chess and did all the things together that they had done before Helena had run away to suburbia, but their relationship was awkward at times and filled with the ghosts of promises and feelings that should probably have long since been abandoned. Some days it was easy to get on with things and move on, but more often than not, a word or a gesture would spark off old memories and things would become stilted. So Helena got her own hotel room, sometimes even in a different hotel, which she would justify by saying it had this or that feature that she absolutely had to have, such as a gym or a spa pool, and Myka would just nod and smile.

They had come to New England three days before Christmas in search of an artefact that was causing previously pleasant and caring people to become belligerent and in some cases, violent. It seemed to be related to yet another Christmas ornament, an illuminated candy cane. As Helena thought about the case, some images came back to her from the day before. The candy cane, being wielded like a broadsword by a middle-aged suburban housewife in fluffy elf slippers. A crashing blow to Helena’s head, and then… nothing. She had been knocked out by a housewife with a giant toy candy cane. How humiliating.

“Helena?” a husky voice emanated from the person next to her.

“Myka?” Helena asked.

A lamp was switched on, making Helena wince and suddenly become very aware of her headache.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Myka asked, sitting up on her elbows and peering at Helena in the too-bright light of the lamp. Her hair was in disarray, but she was, as ever, beautiful.

Helena considered.

“I believe I’m all right, Myka. Aside from multiple aches and pains, that is. Nothing too serious, I shouldn’t think.”

Myka sat up properly, shuffling backwards to lean on the headboard.

“I was going to wake you up at 3.30,” she said, indicating the alarm clock with a lazy wave of one arm, “because you got hit really hard in the head, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t end up with a brain injury or something. I could only get us this room – I know you prefer to stay on your own, but this was all I could get on the Warehouse’s dime. I’m sorry,” she said, flashing an apologetic smile at Helena.

“That’s quite all right,” Helena said. “I appreciate your care of me.”

Myka smiled at her, a little uneasily.

“So, shall we go back to sleep for now?” Helena asked, her brain awhirl. She wanted to turn off the light, so that she didn’t have to look at the incredible sight of Myka with her hair tousled from sleep wearing only the briefest of shorts and a t-shirt that didn’t quite cover her whole abdomen. Headache or not, Helena’s libido was raging at the sight.

“One minute,” Myka said, suddenly getting up and going into the small bathroom, emerging after a moment triumphantly. “I got you some analgesics for when you woke – I figured you’d have a headache.”

Helena smiled at her gratefully.

“Thank you, darling. That’s really very thoughtful of you.”

She took the proffered pills and swallowed them with the aid of a glass of water that Myka produced. Myka smiled at her, that beautiful half-smile that Helena had dreamed of during her time in Boone and later in Black River Falls, where she had lived with Giselle. Helena’s breath caught in her throat at the sight, and she only just resisted the urge to lean forward and run her fingers through Myka’s hair.

Myka switched off the light and they went back to sleep, Helena dreaming of Myka’s smile.

The following morning, they were woken by the blare of Myka’s Farnsworth. Helena tried to lift her head only to groan slightly at the pain the movement brought with it. Myka got up quickly and found the device, opening it to display Artie peering at her.

“Myka. There is another artefact disturbance close to your location. We believe it’s Jim Carrey’s script to ‘Liar, Liar’. It causes people to be unable to lie, and it was sent to the governor of New Hampshire. He’s waiting for you at his home in Concord. You need to go and neutralise the artefact. Claudia’s sending the location to your cell. I’ve told Pete to come back this morning with the candy cane – this retrieval doesn’t need three of you, and our budget for hotel rooms is through the roof. I expect you two back tomorrow at the latest,” he said, closing the Farnsworth.

“Well,” Myka said, “I guess we’re going to see the governor of New Hampshire.”

“Apparently so,” Helena said, smiling.

They showered and dressed quickly, grabbing bagels and coffee (tea for Helena, of course) from a small café nearby, and they made their way to the Governor’s location in good time. There were the expected pat-downs and security checks from the Governor’s staff, and then they were allowed to see the great man himself. Governor Daniel Hillman was a tall, middle-aged and very imposing black gentleman. Helena was heartened to find that he was not an elderly white man as were the vast majority of politicians in the US. Still a man, of course, but things had progressed more than she would have ever dreamed.

“Good morning, Agents,” he boomed, smiling.

“Good morning, Mr Governor,” Myka said, shaking his hand. Helena took his hand briefly, nodding, but said nothing. More often than not, opening her mouth invited questions about what an Englishwoman was doing with Secret Service credentials, and she preferred to avoid that today, if possible. Her headache was bad enough as it was. And her back – she must have bashed it when she landed. The Governor’s office was stuffy and too bright and she just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“So, ladies, how do we do this?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his expression. “I can’t go around saying the first thing that comes into my head all the time – my wife is ready to divorce me as it is.”

Myka nodded, and Helena bit her tongue to keep from commenting about the irony of politicians finding themselves unable to lie.

“Can you try to tell me a lie, please?” Myka asked, taking a pair of gloves from her pocket and carefully putting them on. She was using her “Secret Service” tone, the kind of tone that invited unthinking obedience. Helena always felt a little breathless when she heard that tone.

“You…” Governor Hillman began, trying extremely hard to finish his sentence, “are both really hot,” he blurted, his hand going to cover his mouth in shock a moment later.

“I’m so sorry,” he said after a moment. “I was trying to lie by saying that you are a Hispanic male in your 80s, I don’t know where that came from.”

Myka simply nodded.

“No need to worry, sir. Can you hand me the script, please?”

He took a sheaf of papers from his briefcase, which was resting on the imposing desk that took up most of the middle of the room.

“Now turn away, sir,” Myka said in a tone that brooked no argument. He did so, and she dropped the artefact into the bag, causing the usual flash and crackle.

“Okay,” Myka said, “Now can you please say what you were going to say before?”

The Governor turned to face them again and said, clearly, “You are a Hispanic male in your 80s.” He let out a breath in a huff, and laughed nervously.

“I don’t know what you guys do in South Dakota, but I’m sure glad you happened to be nearby,” he said jovially. “Thank you for your help, Agents.”

Myka nodded again, shook the Governor’s hand, and they left. The whole retrieval had taken approximately 30 minutes, including the security checks. Helena was glad to be heading back to the hotel, and said so.

“I’m not,” Myka said absently as she started the engine on the SUV they had hired.

“Why?” Helena asked curiously.

“Why what?” Myka asked, turning her head to peer curiously at Helena as she made a right turn out of the Governor’s driveway onto the main road.

“Why aren’t you glad to be going back to the hotel?” Helena repeated.

Myka stared at her for a moment, and then pulled the car over into the piled snow at the side of the road with a muffled curse, causing the drivers behind to honk and gesticulate in annoyance.

“Your hair is… black,” Myka eventually said, through gritted teeth.

Helena stared at her. Had Myka…

“I’m whammied,” Myka said, her face tight. She examined her hands carefully and found the culprit – a small paper cut on her index finger.

“And since the script is already neutralised…” Helena began.

“We clearly need to find another way to neutralise the effects,” Myka finished. She fished in her pocket and pulled out her Farnsworth, calling Artie.

“What is it, Myka?” he barked, impatiently.

She explained and he frowned.

“Leave it with me,” he said. “And stay away from other people. We can’t have you telling them that you work at a top secret organisation that finds and hides magical objects,” he said, snapping his Farnsworth closed.

“Well,” Helena said, “This is a bit inconvenient.”

Myka snorted.

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who can’t hide anything,” she said, and then suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth.

“What do you mean?” Helena asked, curious as to what, exactly, Myka thought she had to hide from Helena.

“Please don’t ask me any questions, Helena,” Myka pleaded. “I can’t control what I say.”

“Very well,” Helena said, narrowing her eyes. What on earth was Myka so concerned about?

They made the rest of the drive back to the hotel in silence. When they arrived at their room, it was lunchtime.

“I’m going to call for some room service, Myka,” Helena said. “Would you like anything?”

Myka immediately replied, “A cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate milkshake.” She then realised what she’d said, and tried to say something else, but the words wouldn’t leave her mouth. She threw up her hands in defeat. Helena grinned at her and ordered the same for herself.

They ate in silence, side-by-side on the bed, and after they had finished Helena retrieved a book from her bag and began to read, while Myka surfed television channels before settling on reruns of the Golden Girls. Helena watched for a few moments but it didn’t hold her interest. Myka, however, seemed to love it, and sat giggling to herself. Helena found herself, after a while, unashamedly watching Myka’s reactions rather than watching the television or reading. She was so adorable, smiling openly and widely at each joke.

“What?” Myka asked after a few moments of Helena openly watching her.

“You look very relaxed, darling. It’s nice to see your smile,” Helena said, truthfully. She had missed Myka’s smile.

“I miss your smile,” Myka said, immediately, and then her eyes widened.

“I smile all the time,” Helena protested.

“Not like you used to,” Myka said. And once again, her eyes widened.

“And how did I smile before?” Helena asked, softly.

“I think maybe we shouldn’t talk anymore,” Myka said, carefully looking away from Helena.

“Okay, Myka. If that’s what you want.”

“It’s not what I want.”

Helena sucked in a long breath.

“I’m sorry, Myka, but now I’m confused. What is it that you do want?”

Myka put both hands over her mouth and fled to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Helena stared at the closed door for a moment, and then sighed, returning her attention to her book.

Myka still hadn’t emerged from the bathroom 20 minutes later, and Helena was beginning to get worried. In the meantime, however, Myka’s Farnsworth buzzed noisily from the desk. Helena went to answer it and found Claudia at the other end.

“Hey HG,” Claudia said brightly. There were piles of decorations and lights littering the area behind her; clearly she had caught the Christmas spirit.

“Hi, Claudia. What can I do for you, my dear?”

“Actually, I was hoping to speak to Myka. To see if I could get any secrets out of her,” Claudia said with a sly smile on her face.

“Well, at the moment she appears to be hiding in the bathroom, so I’m afraid I can’t help there,” Helena said with a sigh.

Claudia’s expression changed to a look of stunned realisation.

“Oh. Dude. You two are stuck in a hotel room and she can’t lie. Dude.” The second ‘dude’ was long and drawn out, and Claudia was biting her lip, looking worried.

“I don’t understand, Claudia. Why is that such a problem? We are friends, I have nothing to hide from Myka.”

“Really?” Claudia asked sceptically. Helena thought for a moment, and then bit her own lip.

“Well,” she began, and then trailed off.

“Exactly,” Claudia said, raising an eyebrow at her. “No-one wants to tell the truth all the time, HG.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Helena said thoughtfully. She still didn’t understand what Myka had to hide from her specifically.

“Go easy on her, okay? She hates being out of control.”

Helena nodded, holding Claudia’s gaze for a moment to assure the young agent that she understood. Artie’s voice came through just then from the background and he took the Farnsworth from Claudia.

“Helena. This could get a little… interesting. It seems that the artefact’s power becomes more concentrated over time, and eventually will make the victim behave truthfully as well as speaking the truth. So if Myka is hiding anything, she won’t be able to soon, unless we can somehow neutralise the artefact in the meantime. Damn Jim Carrey and his overacting. We’ve had to collect 18 different artefacts in the last three years alone,” Artie said, muttering to himself.

“What does that mean, exactly?” Helena asked.

“I don’t know, Helena. It could be fairly benign, or it could become… uncomfortable. My advice is, if Myka wants to talk, you need to listen. Otherwise the artefact might push her into actions she wouldn’t normally take.”

“Okay…” Helena said slowly. “I’m not sure I know what that means, but I’ll keep in touch and let you know if things get out of hand.”

“Be sure that you do,” Artie said gruffly before closing the Farnsworth. Helena put Myka’s Farnsworth back on the desk, walking to the bathroom door and knocking quietly.

“Myka? Are you all right, darling?” she asked, in a soft voice.

“I’m… dammit. I can’t control what comes out of my mouth, Helena. I don’t like it.” came the reply, in a subdued tone.

“Why don’t you come out and watch some television, Myka. I promise to limit my conversation to what we’re having for dinner or what to watch on television. And if there is any time you don’t want to speak, simply tell me. I won’t take offence,” Helena said gently.

There was silence from the bathroom for a moment, as Myka considered.

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll be out in a minute,” she said, so quietly that Helena almost couldn’t hear her.

Helena busied herself with the room’s complimentary tea and coffee station, making a pot of coffee for Myka and a cup of English breakfast for herself. When Myka emerged from the bathroom, looking very much like she had been crying, Helena said nothing, simply gesturing towards the coffee. Myka said a soft “Thank you,” and nothing else for the next hour or so. Helena continued to read in silence, sipping her tea and occasionally glancing at the television. They sat side by side on the roomy hotel bed, and Helena could practically feel the tension radiating from Myka.

“Do you want me to go, Myka?” Helena asked finally, putting her book carefully on the bedside table.

“What?” Myka asked, confused.

“You’re very tense, darling, and it’s clear that you don’t want to talk to me. I won’t be offended. I can book another room here in this motel so you don’t have to worry about what you might say but still close enough that I can help if you need me.”

“I’m not…” Myka stopped suddenly, unable to finish her sentence.

“Myka, you can’t lie. I don’t care what it is that you want to hide, you have a perfect right to your own thoughts and I have no desire to make you share anything you don’t want to. So, should I go?”

Myka looked at her fingernails carefully for a moment, and then spoke carefully.

“I don’t want you to go.”

She said it simply, and since Helena knew it was the truth, she simply nodded in response.

“Okay, darling. Then stop worrying so much. We will simply not speak unless we need to, until this situation has been resolved. How does that sound?”

Myka smiled wanly.

“Good,” she said, nodding.

“Okay, then,” Helena said, picking up her book and returning her attention to catching up on the 20th century’s best literature. She could feel Myka begin to relax next to her, and she lost herself in the imagination of Phillip K Dick. He was a little more accessible than Mr Bradbury, she felt, but still had intriguing ideas. She didn’t care for the pervasive sense of melancholy his work evoked, however. Science fiction should be about what humanity can achieve, about hope. She felt that, as the ostensible father of science fiction, she was entitled to hold that opinion.

An hour or so later, Myka’s Farnsworth buzzed again.

“Could you get it, Helena?” Myka asked.

Helena raised an eyebrow, but complied. It was Artie, and he had news.

“We’ve looked at the previous incidents where this script was suspected to have been used. Someone else did end up with a paper cut, and had to wait until the cut healed before the effects wore off.”

Myka swore under her breath.

“Is there nothing else you can do, Artie?” Helena asked.

“Not that we can think of. We could, potentially, inject a small amount of neutraliser fluid into the area, but it’s possible that it wouldn’t make any difference as the artefact’s effects have probably entered the bloodstream too. And as you know, the neutraliser will more than likely make Myka extremely high for a few days. Better and safer to just allow it to heal. Which means you both need to stay there, and Myka needs to not speak to anyone until the effects have passed entirely.”

“Which means we’re going to have to spend Christmas here, alone?” Helena said, sighing.

“I’m afraid so,” Artie said, not entirely unsympathetically.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Helena said, closing the Farnsworth.

She turned to look at Myka, and leaned herself back on the desk slightly.

“I’m so sorry, darling. We could perhaps book a better hotel, a suite maybe, with adjoining rooms so that you could have your privacy? What do you think?”

Myka looked upset and worried. She was chewing on her lip furiously.

“I can’t believe we’re stuck away from the Warehouse over Christmas. Pete and Claudia are going to be devastated.”

“I know,” Helena said. “But perhaps we can have some sort of a family Christmas celebration whenever we are able to return?”

Myka nodded.

“So, what do you think? Shall I call some of the larger hotels in the area and see if anyone has something a bit more suitable for a longer stay?”

Myka looked at her for a long moment and then nodded. Helena busied herself over the next 30 minutes or so calling local hotels. She managed to find a suite with two beds in a nearby hotel which boasted a fireplace and some sort of hot tub/whirlpool affair that sounded like it might help both with Helena’s rapidly stiffening bruises and Myka’s tension. With a minimum of fuss, she managed to get them checked out and checked in to the new hotel, and Myka didn’t have to exchange words with anyone but Helena.

Once they were settled in the new room, which was spacious and sumptuous and also extremely cosy with the fireplace and even a small collection of books, Myka seemed to relax a little. Helena ordered room service for lunch without asking Myka what she wanted – this time, she wanted to surprise Myka with a favourite. She ordered a chicken and chorizo dish that she had noticed Myka particularly enjoying when Leena made it years ago. Myka said nothing when it arrived, just smiled at Helena, a wide, sweet smile that lifted Helena’s heart.

They spent much of the day in silence. Helena decided to make use of the Jacuzzi and after checking with Myka that she wasn’t planning to use it, went to fill it. While the contraption was filling, Helena found something more or less suitable to wear – some running shorts and a bra that at least shouldn’t go entirely see-through in the water.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the tub, Myka?” Helena asked as she was passing through the living section of the suite on her way to change. “You can join me, you know. I don’t mind.”

Myka looked at her, her eyes wide. Helena looked back at her curiously. After a moment of silence, Helena thought very carefully before speaking.

“Is this, for some reason, a question you don’t wish to answer?” she asked, looking at her own bare feet rather than looking at Myka. She didn’t want to embarrass her.

“Yes,” Myka said quietly.

Helena nodded without looking up.

“Okay darling. I’ll see you in a little while.”

The tub was wonderful. It was set into the floor and it was huge, with room for at least four people, with jets everywhere and some sort of temperature regulation that meant it stayed beautifully hot. It did wonders for the plethora of bruises Helena had discovered on her chest, abdomen and back. The candy cane had clearly done more damage than she’d been aware of. Her mind was racing, however, and it was because of Myka. Helena kept thinking back to the times when Myka hadn’t wanted to answer her questions, and it seemed to have a common theme - things that were to do with Helena herself. And Claudia had implied that there were things that Myka would want to hide from Helena specifically. And why wouldn’t she want to answer about the hot tub? She’d said no the first time, so what was different with the second request? Helena wasn’t possessed of Myka’s eidetic memory, so she couldn’t remember the exact wording she’d used in each request. She was fairly sure that she had asked Myka if she wished to join Helena the second time though. Did Myka not want to insult Helena by saying she didn’t want to share a hot tub? In that case, Helena didn’t understand, because she was well aware that Myka was a private person, and she had no issue with that, so Myka shouldn’t have been embarrassed about saying it. She herself was not bashful about her body, but some people were. She sighed and sunk deeper into the tub to allow her aching muscles to relax.

After a while she became extremely sleepy and decided it was best not to fall asleep in the tub. She pulled herself out and set it to drain, drying herself off briskly. She came back in to the living room to find Myka on her cell talking to Pete.

“I can’t do it, Pete. She…”

Myka saw Helena and stopped talking abruptly, dragging her features into a tight smile.

“Hey, Helena,” she said, loudly enough for Pete to hear her.

Helena smiled back and mouthed that she was going to take a nap. Myka nodded and Helena made herself scarce. She was fairly sure now that Myka was hiding something, but she wasn’t sure what. And it was none of her business, she decided. She changed quickly into a soft cotton t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants and lay down, savouring the feeling of the thick, warm bedding against her tired body. She slept for an hour or so and woke up feeling refreshed and clear-headed. She went to find Myka and talk about dinner, and about what Myka would like to do on Christmas day, since it would only be the two of them.

“I… I’ve always wanted a real tree. My dad – he only ever let us have the artificial ones,” Myka said, looking adorably bashful.

“Okay,” Helena said. “We can do that. Anything else? Any particular kind of food? I did have a word with the concierge and he said that they’d be happy to supply whatever we wanted, wherever we wanted, so long as they have enough time to prepare.”

“I like the traditional food – turkey and stuffing and all the trimmings,” Myka said, surprising Helena a little. As far as she recalled from the one Christmas she’d spent at the current Warehouse, Myka had eaten only vegetables at the Christmas table, and even then it was only those that weren’t fattening – no potatoes for Myka Bering. She kept her expression neutral, however, simply nodding.

“Anything else?” she asked, smiling.

“Mulled wine and hot chocolate.”

Again, a surprise, but given that this was a Myka who had no choice but to tell the truth, some things were bound to be different, especially in someone so rigidly controlled as Myka. Helena nodded and went off to speak to the concierge to arrange a traditional Christmas dinner and the trimmings to be delivered to their room. They couldn’t afford to be in public with others with Myka unable to control her tongue.

They watched a movie that evening, Myka cuddling herself in a blanket and speaking very little. She was, however, a lot closer to Helena than she would normally be – or at least that was how it felt to Helena. It was a pleasant evening, all things considered. Helena had not allowed herself to spend too much time alone with Myka since her own return to the Warehouse; she found it difficult given her incredibly strong feelings for Myka. They talked, of course, and played chess and debated various subjects, but most often they were in the presence of other team members when they did so. It was unusual to be with Myka on her own nowadays and while she was ill at ease because of her own feelings, she still found it pleasant, even while Myka was almost silent. Helena normally found it difficult to be comfortable sitting in silence with others, other than perhaps with Mrs Frederic who was surprisingly peaceful to spend time with (at least when she wasn’t trying to browbeat or intimidate a person into doing something).

“Goodnight, Helena,” was all Myka said when they parted for their respective beds but for some reason her tone warmed Helena. It sounded like a sincere wish. Helena rather thought that she would have had an extremely good night if only Myka wanted her the way she wanted Myka. She took a deep breath and collapsed beneath the covers with a sigh. She was an idiot, she knew. Boone, then Giselle – all of it had been a mistake, and had she only been a little braver she might be settling down in bed next to Myka, with her face nuzzled into Myka’s long neck… She daydreamed for another moment, and then began to meditate to allow herself to relax enough to sleep. Even after all these years, the cold and dark of the Bronze still lingered in her thoughts, and sleep was often elusive.

The following morning, she woke with a body practically on top of her, a fact which took quite some time to penetrate her tired mind. Myka was lying with her head nestled between Helena’s neck and shoulder, and her legs entwined intimately with Helena’s. That was odd enough to wake up to. However, when Myka woke a few seconds later, things got weirder. Myka just smiled at her and whispered, “Good morning,” and then proceeded to snuggle even closer, closing her eyes and sighing in satisfaction. Then she went back to sleep, leaving an extremely confused and breathless Helena lying very still, waiting for Myka to wake again. After a while, she couldn’t maintain her stiff posture and was forced to relax her muscles. A while after that, she was lulled to sleep by the warmth of Myka’s body and her soft breaths. When she awoke for the second time, she was alone and she wondered for a few moments if she had dreamed the whole thing. She was gratified to realise that the pillow next to her had several long curly hairs on it, and that the bed still held the imprint of Myka’s body.

She mustered up the energy to drag herself out of bed, her head muzzy from falling asleep and waking up again. Myka was not in the living area, nor was she in her own bedroom. After a time, Helena noticed that Myka’s bathroom door was closed. She knocked on it quietly and there was no answer, so she tried the door, which was unlocked.

“Myka, I’m coming in,” she said, giving Myka a moment to cover up if she was undressed. The shower wasn’t running, so she was reasonably sure that Myka was just hiding.

She opened the door cautiously and stepped through. Myka was sitting on the floor beside the toilet, her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked small and had obviously been crying.

“Myka, what’s the matter?” Helena asked, her heart constricting.

“I… I woke up in your bed, Helena. I don’t know what’s happening to me,” Myka said, almost too quietly to be audible.

“I know, Myka. It’s okay. I certainly didn’t mind the warmth,” Helena said, trying to lighten the moment.

“I don’t understand, Helena. I went to sleep in my bed. How did I even end up in your room?” she asked plaintively, almost in tears.

“I think the artefact may be affecting your actions, Myka, as well as what you say,” Helena said. “I don’t think you should worry too much about it at this juncture. Just try to relax and don’t worry. There is nothing you can say or do that will upset or concern me. We just have to wait this out, and hope that the cut heals quickly.”

She moved to the small cabinet in the bathroom which held basic supplies like a small first aid kit and sewing supplies, and came out with some ointment for cuts and stings. She knelt next to Myka, taking her hand, ignoring the loud intake of breath from Myka at the physical contact, and rubbed some of the ointment into the cut. When she looked up, Myka was staring at their joined hands intently, and it was Helena’s turn to take a sharp intake of breath at the look on Myka’s face. She knew what desire looked like, and it was clear that desire was exactly what Myka was feeling just then. Helena was not unaffected herself. However, Myka had a boyfriend, and this artefact could be pushing her to do something because it saw her desire for Helena as some sort of truth that needed to be revealed. Helena knew that Myka desired her – or at least that Myka had, at one point, desired her. But that didn’t mean she was going to allow anything to happen between them. She took her hand away and backed up slowly, returning the ointment to the cabinet and opting for a business-like demeanour.

“Now, shall we do something about breakfast?” she asked briskly. Myka nodded, her eyes still dark and heavy-lidded. Helena ignored the intensity of her stare with some difficulty.

Helena called down for breakfast, and they ate in silence, Myka thankfully watching television rather than Helena. There was a definite tension in the air. It was Christmas Eve, and they should have been with their friends playing Monopoly or Scrabble and laughing at Pete’s attempts to fill his mouth with more and more croissants or bagels or popcorn or whatever other snack foods were at hand. Instead, they were exiled in New Hampshire, a wan Myka watching Helena carefully when she thought Helena wasn’t looking, and speaking very little.

Scrabble. That would be a way to spend an hour or two without much need to speak except perhaps to consult a dictionary. Helena made a quick call to the concierge, who agreed to send someone out to procure the game. An impressively short time later there was a discreet knock at the door, and one of the bellboys delivered a wrapped box. Helena gave him a generous tip and resolved to generously tip the concierge, too, at the end of their stay.

They played a few lively games with a pleasant lunch in between, and it all went rather well, or so Helena thought, until Myka’s phone rang. It was Brandon, the beefy boyfriend, and Myka stared at her phone in complete panic for a long moment before looking at Helena in mute appeal.

“Do you want me to answer it, Myka?” Helena asked, not sure what she could possibly say to dissuade Myka’s boyfriend from wanting to speak to her on Christmas Eve.

Myka nodded.

“What should I say?” she asked, taking the phone from Myka.

“Tell him something. That I’m…damn it, I can’t even suggest a lie for you to tell!” Myka fumed.

“Fine. I’ll tell him you have the flu.”

Helena picked up the phone and said just that, pretending that Myka was ill and sleeping. Brandon asked Helena to pass on a message, that he wished her a speedy recovery and could she please call him when she woke. Helena promised to pass it on. She hung up and passed the phone back to Myka.

“I take it you heard all of that?” she asked.

“Yes,” Myka said, her jaw tight.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Myka said, frowning. She got up from the floor where she had been sitting cross legged as they played, and ran her fingers through her hair.

Helena didn’t quite know what to say. Trying to convince Myka’s boyfriend that she was so ill that she couldn’t speak to him at all would likely panic the man into thinking that Myka needed to go to hospital, and him speaking to Myka was not a good idea, given that she could, at any time, let slip that she worked at the Warehouse. Helena hadn’t enquired as to Myka’s relationship status, but she doubted that they were yet at the stage where Myka would be choosing Brandon as her “One”.

Helena went to make some tea, to give her hands something to keep them busy. She didn’t know how to help, so decided that silence was the best course for now.

She made them both some herbal tea, and Myka took the cup from her without comment, continuing to pace. Helena sat on the plush and comfortable sofa, drinking her tea and practising some of the breathing exercises that Steve had taught her to calm herself.

“I don’t know what to do, Helena,” Myka said, finally. She sat on the sofa, tucking her long legs up underneath her, and stared into her cup fixedly.

Helena thought for a long moment.

“I think that the only option is to call him, and to stick to safe subjects. That you are stuck here and that you wish you could see him over Christmas, but that you’ll be back as soon as possible.

Myka bit her lip.

“What is it?” Helena asked.

“Idon’tactuallywanttoseehim,” was the response. Helena took a moment to decipher the noise Myka had just made.

“Ah. Well, in that case, perhaps you should write yourself a script? Things you can actually say out loud? And any questions you can’t field, you can have a coughing fit to cover. What do you think?”

Myka nodded, and Helena noted that she was, by now, bright red. Helena was, of course, wondering why Myka didn’t want to see Brandon, but she didn’t ask. It was none of her business unless Myka made it so.

“Perhaps you should test whether you are actually able to have a coughing fit at will, given that it might technically be viewed by the artefact as dishonesty,” Helena said, after a few moments’ consideration.

Myka nodded and then tried to cough, but was unable to make a noise.

“Bugger. In that case, if there is something you can’t reply to without incriminating yourself, I shall initiate a coughing fit, and you tell him that you have to go, which will not be a lie since you will need to stop speaking to him to preserve your cover. Do you think that will suffice?”

Myka nodded, biting her lip, and after a half an hour or so of waiting, to preserve the story of Myka taking a nap, they initiated a call to Brandon. Helena did not hear where things began to go wrong, but rather than passing the phone to Helena, Myka instead shouted, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to spend Christmas with you,” and then after a pause, in which Helena assumed Brandon asked why, Myka said, “Because I’m in love with someone else,” and then clapped her hand over her mouth in horror. It appeared that the artefact had forced Myka not to hand the phone over as they had planned, to stop her from going through with the deception she and Helena had planned.

After a few seconds of unintelligible noises, Myka finally managed to say, “I’m sorry, I have to go,” after which she went into her bedroom and into her ensuite bathroom and locked herself in. Helena sighed, but left Myka to her own devices for the time being.

In the meantime, the concierge had apparently taken Helena’s word seriously that she wished to brighten up the Christmas holiday for her friend since they were stuck at the hotel, and had sent up a small army of staff to decorate the room with holly, ivy, mistletoe and a beautiful natural Christmas tree with very subtle baubles – not the usual gaudy ones. He had also arranged the shipping of a particular gift for Myka at Helena’s request, which was now resting under the tree that the staff had placed and decorated within moments. When Myka finally returned from her bathroom, an hour or so later, it was to a beautifully decorated suite and a roaring fire. Helena took one look at Myka’s tear-stained face and, without speaking, went to the mini bar and poured Myka a double scotch. She passed it to Myka, who smiled at her weakly before taking a large sip and closing her eyes.

Helena switched on the television and after a bit of channel surfing found a television programme about singers competing for a recording contract that she knew Myka secretly liked.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked quietly, settling a blanket around Myka’s knees.

Myka shook her head, but then leaned close and put her head on Helena’s shoulder. Helena could feel her body trembling despite the blazing fire and the blanket. They watched the interminable programme together in silence for what could very well have been hours. When it was finished, they agreed that it was time to order dinner. While they were waiting for the food to arrive, Myka went off to call Pete on the Farnsworth. Helena could hear her talking with him, and she was jealous that Myka found it so easy to talk to Pete while she could barely say a word to Helena without clamming up. When she returned, Helena decided to bring it up.

“You know, you seem to find it an awful lot easier to talk to Pete, even in your current condition. I could probably arrange to get him here to swap with me, if you think that would be easier, until the effects of the artefact wear off,” she said, in an emotionless tone.

Myka reddened.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” she said carefully.

“Are you sure?” Helena asked. “You seem to be able to talk to him without worrying about what to say or not say. I would think it would be easier for you to spend Christmas Day with him instead.”

“I don’t want to spend Christmas Day with Pete,” Myka said.

“Well, what about Claudia then?” Helena asked.

“It’s fine, Helena. Things are fine as they are. Can we please not talk about it anymore?” Myka asked.

“Of course,” Helena said stiffly.

Myka looked as if she wanted to say something, but she simply took a deep breath and sighed it out. Their food arrived just then, so they ate in silence, after which Helena decided to use the hot tub again for a while to clear her mind and ease her muscles. She didn’t bother asking Myka this time, just mentioned that she was off to bathe, and Myka nodded.

When she returned from bathing, she was sleepy again, and was tempted to just turn in early, but she was surprised when Myka spoke to her as soon as she stepped out of the large bathroom.

“You got me a present,” she said, sounding both surprised and gratified.

“I did,” Helena stated, nodding. “It’s rubbish enough being stuck here without even a gift to open on Christmas Day.”

“But I didn’t get you anything,” Myka protested.

“You can’t speak to anyone, darling,” Helena said.

“I know, but…” Myka sighed, waving her arms around in frustration.

“Did you get me a present that is currently at the B&B?” Helena asked.

“Yes,” Myka said.

“Well then. Consider this just a small additional gift from me to you. I realise that this is not the Christmas you would have wished for, and I wanted to make it a little better for you,” Helena said, staring into the flames in the fireplace. The staff really had done a lovely job making the place look cosy and Christmassy.

“It’s not so bad,” Myka said quietly, and Helena turned to smile at her.

“I’m glad,” is all she said.

They watched some television, enjoying some late night television show that Myka favoured, before turning in.

“Thank you,” Myka said, before they parted ways.

“What for?” Helena asked, puzzled.

“For caring enough to arrange all this and getting me a present,” Myka said, and she stepped forward to envelop Helena in a quick hug. Her skin was warm where it pressed against Helena’s, and Helena had to resist the urge to tighten her own hold on Myka, to slide her hands up Myka’s slender back, or to turn her head and kiss Myka’s neck that was so close to her lips.

She stepped back and said, rather shakily, “You are quite welcome, Myka,” before nodding and turning to go to bed. She was still trembling slightly when she began her normal relaxation exercises ten minutes later. No one had ever affected her the way Myka Bering did, and she didn’t think she would ever meet anyone else who would.

The following morning, she woke to the weight of Myka against her once again. Their legs were once again entwined and Myka had buried her face in Helena’s hair, breathing in soft snuffling breaths that tickled Helena’s ear. Helena was unsure what this meant. She knew that Myka was attracted to her, but she didn’t understand why the artefact was so set on making that fact explicit. They both knew they were attracted to one another; it was not news to either of them. It was perhaps an unspoken truth, she supposed. Perhaps that was why she had woken up in this exquisitely pleasant position once again.

Myka shifted a little and the covers moved. That was when Helena realised that Myka was naked – at least from the waist up. She averted her eyes quickly, but the sight was burned into her retina already and her breath was beginning to come in small gasps. For once, she didn’t have the faintest idea what to do. Should she try to extricate herself from Myka, in the hope that she could be out of the way when Myka woke up to discover she was naked? Or should she just embrace the situation – since she was already literally embracing a naked Myka Bering – and try to reassure Myka again when she woke up? She wished for a moment that she had access to her old lab at this precise moment – she would rather have drugged Myka, dressed her and returned her to her own bed than allow Myka to experience the amount of embarrassment that was sure to come. She decided, reluctantly, that staying put to help reassure Myka was the best option, and she settled in, closing her eyes, waiting for Myka to awaken.

It didn’t take long before Myka was stirring, and once she did, she once again snuggled into Helena’s body a little more, causing Helena to hold her breath and pray to all deities to curb her libido. Having a quite possibly entirely naked Myka Bering against her was testing her in more ways than one. She began to take long, slow breaths, attempting to clear her mind and meditate to ignore the effect Myka was having on her body. She was unable to ignore it, however, when Myka began to kiss Helena’s neck softly and work her way up her jaw. Her skin was tingling and breaking out in goosebumps, and her heart was thumping. Every cell of her body was yearning towards Myka, was yearning to turn her head and kiss Myka with all the passion and, yes – lust, that she was feeling.

A gasp drew her back to reality. Myka had already scooted away, hiding under the covers.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Helena said casually.

Myka coughed out a laugh and said, “Merry Christmas.”

“We seem to be in another unusual situation, Myka, and I am not sure how best to deal with it. Would it be best, perhaps, if I were to leave and go to shower to allow you to make your way back to your room? Or would you prefer to talk?”

Myka said nothing. Helena dared a look at her, and was saddened to see that Myka was crying. Helena thought for a long moment before ignoring her own feelings to pull Myka to her, wrapping her arms around Myka and repeating, “It’s okay, Myka. It’s okay.”

Myka began crying in earnest, sobs that made Helena’s stomach twist in sympathy. Myka held onto Helena convulsively, twisting her hands in Helena’s pyjamas and burying her head in Helena’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, my darling. I promise. Whatever it is, it’s okay,” Helena murmured, on the verge of tears herself. She was a fool to have thought to herself that this artefact was fairly benign – no artefact was benign. This one was having a really devastating effect on Myka, and Helena had no idea why.

It took a long time – at least half an hour – before Myka was calm enough to loosen her grip on Helena, let alone speak. When she did, however, she just asked Helena to stay with her for a while. They stayed where they were, wrapped together, for another half hour or so. Helena let herself relax into the contact and found herself enjoying it intensely, unlike their even more intimate embrace that morning, which she knew to be the influence of the artefact. At least now she knew that Myka wanted to be close to her, even if it was purely for comfort.

“Thank you, Helena,” Myka said into her hair, sometime later.

“You’re welcome, my darling,” Helena said, her voice soft and low. “I am always here if you need me.”

When Myka didn’t move away or let go, Helena spoke again.

“So, my darling, what shall I do? I can go to shower now or I can stay here and avert my eyes while you go to get dressed. What do you think?”

Myka didn’t speak. After a moment, Helena spoke again.

“I think perhaps that this is another time when I should not ask any questions. I am going to shower now, Myka. Please come and join me in the living area when you are ready to. I am very happy to be spending Christmas with you.”

She kissed Myka’s forehead gently and moved away carefully, averting her eyes in case the bedcovers should move again, and picked out some clothes before heading into her own bathroom to shower. When she was under the stream of hot water, she put her head back, the water feeling like hot needles against her skin. She had no idea what was going on, and it was endlessly frustrating. She loved Myka and to see her hurting this way was awful.

Once she was dressed, she took a deep breath and went to see if Myka was finished getting ready yet. She wasn’t, but the shower was running in the other room, so Helena took the opportunity to order breakfast, which arrived just as Myka did.

“You look better,” Helena said brightly as Myka smiled at her hesitantly. “Breakfast is served,” she said, taking the lid off each plate with a flourish.

They ate in silence, sharing the occasional smile, and Helena made Myka a cup of coffee afterwards, which she accepted before sitting on the sofa and staring into her mug. Helena switched on the television, which was showing a Christmas movie with which she was unfamiliar, so she settled in to watch it. After an hour or so, a steaming cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows, cream and churros was brought in by the same bellboy who had delivered their breakfast.

“Thank you for this, Helena,” Myka murmured after making an indecent noise at the first taste of the hot chocolate.

“You’re welcome,” Helena said, her legs trembling beneath her.

After another Christmas movie, they received a call asking if they were ready for their Christmas dinner. They responded in the affirmative, and the staff were there within moments, setting up a formal table in an empty part of the living space, decorated exquisitely with holly and tasteful silver baubles.

The food was delicious. Helena was incredibly pleased by then that she had chosen this particular establishment for this difficult situation, because the staff were doing such a wonderful job of making this Christmas more than bearable.

They had several courses of wonderful Christmas food, with a traditional Christmas pudding and Brandy Sauce for them both. Helena was surprised again at Myka’s choice of dessert, but since she had asked Myka what she wanted rather than what she thought she should have, it was perhaps not terribly surprising that she would request things that she normally wouldn’t eat. Helena had always thought that Myka’s insistence that she didn’t eat sugar, and her general reluctance to eat anything but what Pete termed “rabbit food” was more to do with control issues rather than any real desire to eat the aforementioned rabbit food. And the evidence was plain, because here Myka was eating large amounts of sugar with a great deal of relish, and grinning at Helena in the process. A grin that was making Helena’s heart pound.

They had pleasant conversation over dinner and dessert about Christmases from their past – Myka recounted the tale of the only Christmas she had spent with Sam, and Helena told Myka about the traditions she had observed with Christina during her too-short years on this earth. There were some tears but their pasts seemed to be safe enough territory that Myka wasn’t uncomfortable or required to lie.

After dinner they decided to read. Myka was reading an old favourite by Dickens, and Helena, having finished with Phillip K Dick, she was now reading some contemporary fantasy by a wonderful writer called Patrick Rothfuss. It was quite suitable for Christmas, being lyrical and magical, and she was quite lost in it when Myka decided to have a soak in the large tub. Helena heard the water running as the tub filled. Myka went off to her room to get undressed, presumably, and came back wrapped in a fluffy hotel bathrobe.

Helena tried to avert her eyes from Myka’s long legs, and suddenly remembered that Myka’s gift was still under the tree.

“Oh, Myka. Your gift! I almost forgot,” she said, getting up to retrieve the large wrapped package. She handed it over to a smiling Myka, who unwrapped it reverently.

“Wow,” Myka said, staring at the pile of copies of The Graphic, the illustrated newspaper in which HG Wells’ “When the Sleeper Wakes,” had first been serialised. There were numerous copies of the newspaper containing the entire work, from start to finish. Each paper was in a protective cover.

“Charles rewrote it after I was Bronzed, of course,” Helena said, slightly anxiously, “but this was the original version. It took me a long time to get it, but I only had to rearrange the shipping address to get it sent here,” she said, smiling nervously.

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Myka said, not taking her eyes off the gift in her hands. “I… I don’t know what to say. The drawings are amazing. This must have been so expensive, Helena. Why did you…? This is too much!”

Helena spread her hands.

“It wasn’t that expensive. Besides which, I thought it was a particularly apt gift. You were, after all, my tether to this world when I awoke from the Bronze. This particular story seemed relevant to our relationship.”

She silently cursed herself for using the word ‘relationship’. Friendship was the word she should have used, and after a moment she went to excuse herself to use the bathroom, her face flaming.

“Wait a minute,” Myka said, and as Helena looked up, Myka was suddenly right in front of her. She put her hands on Helena’s hips and pushed her backwards a few steps.

“Myka, what…?”

Myka smiled and lifted an eyebrow, indicating with a jut of her brow that Helena should look up. They were under a strand of mistletoe.

“Thank you,” Myka breathed, before leaning forward slowly, searching Helena’s eyes the whole time to make sure it was okay. She licked her lips and leaned in a little more, pressing her lips to Helena’s, first gently and then a little more firmly. Helena was frozen for a long moment, unsure what was happening, until Myka’s lips began to move against hers, between hers, and Helena’s breath caught in her throat.

“What are you…?” she said, drawing back to look at Myka.

“Something one of us should have done a long time ago, Helena,” Myka said, and her tone was so certain, so sure, that Helena just nodded. This time when Myka kissed her there was no hesitation. They kissed slowly for a moment, just lips touching, and then Myka slipped her arms around Helena’s neck, her hand making its way into Helena’s hair. Their kisses began to deepen and Helena felt the tip of Myka’s tongue against her lips. With a whimper that would normally have shamed her, she opened her mouth and pushed her body forward, wrapping her own arms around Myka’s waist and sliding her hands up Myka’s back as she had fantasised about doing the night before.

Their kisses became hungry and Myka was making urgent noises that were pulling at Helena’s insides. It had been a long time since she’d had a lover – almost a year since Giselle, and she hadn’t been touched in any intimate way in too long. When Myka pulled her hair, she groaned, her insides pulling and her heart thumping. Her hands were grasping at Myka’s back, digging in to the strong muscles near her shoulder blades.

“Is this okay?” Myka murmured against her lips, before kissing Helena’s jaw and working her way back towards her ear.

“Oh, I assure you, it’s more than okay, Myka,” Helena managed before Myka bit her earlobe sharply, drawing a noise that could only be described as a ‘yip’ from her.

“Good,” Myka said, biting the edge of her ear delicately. “Because I have been thinking about you in that hot tub all day.”

Helena nearly fell to her knees. The desire in Myka’s tone, the hands in her hair, the teeth at her neck – it was all so much after such a long time of being just friends.

“Are you sure, Myka?” she said anxiously, as she tried to stop her own hands from roaming down to cup Myka’s bottom, something she desperately wanted to do.

“Hell, yes,” came the reply, as Myka swept her tongue along the exposed front of Helena’s neck. Then she did something that shocked Helena almost as much as it apparently shocked Myka herself. She pulled her robe off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor, leaving her gloriously nude. She looked down at herself for a long moment, eyes wide, and then simply shrugged, apparently giving in to the artefact.

“Are you coming?” she asked, as she walked towards the hot tub. Helena didn’t bother to answer. She just followed, hot on Myka’s heels, before grabbing Myka’s shoulder to turn her around.  
“Myka, you don’t have to do this,” she said, trying extremely hard to avert her eyes from Myka’s body. “This is the influence of the artefact. It’s telling you that because you’re attracted to me, you have to act on it, but you don’t.

Myka smiled at her, moving their bodies closer. Helena shifted uneasily.

“You don’t understand, Helena. This isn’t the artefact. Or at least not entirely. It’s telling me I have to be truthful, but that’s not all this is.”

“Then what is it, Myka? Because I refuse to destroy our friendship by giving in to lust. I won’t be a one-night stand, not for you, Myka,” Helena said, by this stage almost battling tears herself.

Myka took Helena’s hands in her own, and Helena’s eyes automatically drifted down – and then straight back up. She flushed heavily.

“That’s not what this is. Helena, I’ve been in love with you for the longest time. And I wasn’t sure about you – I thought you maybe did care about me, I thought you loved me when I found out what you did when Sykes blew up the Warehouse. But since then, I haven’t been sure. Because you’ve been so distant. And then you gave me that present. And I knew. You don’t do something like that for a friend. You do that for the person you love. Am I wrong, Helena? Tell me if I’m wrong.”

Helena stared, not entirely able to take in what Myka was saying.

“I… Myka…” she trailed off. Myka’s face began to drop. “No, Myka. I… you’re not wrong. I do love you, Myka. I think I fell in love with you when you pointed a gun at me the first time. I love you.”

Myka kissed her, first softly, and then passionately, her tongue sliding into Helena’s mouth. Helena gasped and reciprocated, sliding her hands around Myka’s naked body, which made both her and Myka gasp. She pulled Myka to her, digging her fingernails into the soft skin of Myka’s back, and Myka pulled Helena’s hair sharply in response.

“Hot tub,” Myka breathed, pulling herself away from Helena’s lips for a moment. She walked away briskly, and Helena followed her, shedding her own clothes as she went.

Myka slipped into the tub, which was bubbling and hot, and Helena stepped in after her. As soon as she was seated, Myka was straddling her lap and kissing her.

“I love you. I love you,” Myka repeated, each time their mouths parted for more than a few seconds. Helena stared at her, wide eyed, returning the kisses fervently, passionately, hardly able to believe that this was happening. She was naked, in a hot tub, with a very naked Myka in her lap, and Myka loved her. She couldn’t take it in. She knew that Myka couldn’t lie – in fact she even, at one point, grabbed Myka’s index finger to check that the cut hadn’t mysteriously healed. It had not. So Myka Bering loved her.

Myka kissed her again, and this time it was an all-out assault of lips, teeth, tongue that had Helena gasping helplessly. Myka’s hands in her hair were restless and began to move. They began to move downwards and soon they were on Helena, in Helena, and Helena threw her head back and cried out in pleasure, her heart thumping. Myka’s mouth was on hers, and Helena’s hands, too, moved to touch Myka who was moving restlessly in her lap, to make Myka gasp and cry, and they climbed and then fell together, each crying out the other’s name. They kissed feverishly as they came down slowly together, and they whispered words of love to one another as the hot water cradled them gently.

Later that night, they lay on the shaggy rug in front of the fire with mulled wine and finger food that the marvellous concierge had provided, somehow knowing that it would be appropriate. Helena decided that, before they checked out, she was going to check the room for bugs, and if there weren’t any, she was tipping the man a year’s salary. He was a treasure.

Myka was eating strawberries, dipping them in a delicious vanilla cream that they had already used for other purposes. Helena thought that Myka should always be eating strawberries, and always on a sheepskin rug in front of a fire, and of course, that she should always be naked when doing so. She was smiling flirtatiously at Helena as she licked cream suggestively from the tip of the strawberry.

“Myka…” Helena growled, warningly.

“What?” Myka said, adopting her most innocent expression.

“You are a tease, Myka Bering. Given that I’ve only just caught my breath, I would appreciate a few more moments to enjoy this delicious food before you distract me again.”

“Fine,” Myka said, pouting.

“I promise to make it up to you – as soon as I can muster up some stamina,” Helena purred.

“Hmm. I’ll hold you to that, Wells,” Myka said, raising an eyebrow and biting into the juicy strawberry, juice running down her wrist. It was ridiculously sexy, especially when she bit into the fruit again and deliberately let the juice run onto her chest. Helena’s intentions of eating some food to maintain her stamina were thrown to the four winds as her mouth went dry at the sight.

“I love you, Myka,” she said, after she had thoroughly cleaned up the strawberry juice and she and Myka were once again breathing heavily and resting closely together, sharing the same breaths.

“I love you too, Helena,” Myka said, kissing her with a mouth that tasted slightly sour from the strawberry. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, my darling,” Helena said, smiling and lying back in Myka’s arms. In all of her many years on this earth, she could think of few Christmases to rival this one. She smiled even more widely and breathed in, long and slow, sighing out her contentment against Myka’s skin.

If they thought that when they returned to the Warehouse, after Myka’s skin finally healed and she was able to lie as much as she liked, they could hide the nature of the change in their relationship, they were much mistaken.

“So, how was it?” Claudia asked, after shrieking and spraying them both with glitter as they arrived. (It was a truth universally acknowledged that Claudia Donovan became far, far too hyperactive at Christmastime and that glitter could and would end up literally anywhere as a result.)

“It was fine,” Helena said, smiling. “Bearable, thank you.”

Steve had just arrived, with a mouthful of candy canes, and said, “Youw wying.”

“I beg your pardon?” Helena asked, as she worked out what he was trying to say.

Steve crunched the remaining candy canes, and after finally swallowing them, pointed at Helena in an accusatory manner.

“You’re lying, HG. It wasn’t fine. It wasn’t bearable. So what was it?”

She tried to stammer that she wasn’t lying, but he just raised an eyebrow. Behind her, Myka was trying to make a speedy exit towards the stairs.

“Pete, HG’s lying about something!” Claudia yelled, her decibel level somewhere slightly below that of a trumpet being blown at top volume just next to one’s ear.

“What?” Pete said, emerging from the kitchen with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.

“We don’t know,” Steve said, “But Myka’s trying to sneak away, and Helena says it went fine, but she’s lying.”

“Mmmph,” Pete said, by this stage having placed a particularly large cookie in his mouth. He swallowed hard before shouting, “Artie! HG’s lying about something!”

He then smiled at Helena smugly and slightly maliciously. He and Myka had ended on perfectly good terms, but he had still noticed the energy around Helena and Myka, and as he had said to her in the past, “All’s fair in love and war, Wells.”

Artie came bustling in, a Tesla in one hand, his eyes narrowed, and a confused Abigail Cho in his wake.

“What are you up to, Wells?” Artie snapped, waving the Tesla in her direction. “Out with it. Steve will know if you’re lying.”

Helena inched in front of Myka unconsciously, holding up her hands in supplication.

“Arthur, I did indeed lie to Steve, but it’s concerning a rather delicate personal matter that I would like to keep to myself. I have done nothing nefarious. There is no need to point that at me.”

Steve said, “She’s telling the truth,” before stealing a cookie from Pete’s plate, laughing at Pete’s protests.

Artie said, “Oh. Sorry, Helena. You know, I just hear your name and I think Tridents and Ice Ages. And it’s been cold enough this winter.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Is it quite all right with everyone if I go upstairs to unpack?” she asked in a frosty tone, drawing a wince from the others, except for Claudia.

“No way missy. I want to know what happened in New Hampshire. Why your stay in a five-star establishment with an open fire and a hot tub was neither fine nor bearable,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Did you do something to Myka? Why are you so quiet, Mykes?”

“Dammit, guys, can you just mind your own business?” Myka finally said, snapping a little.

“Ooh, so there is something to tell…” Claudia said, looking from Helena to Myka and back again, and then again.

“Do you get a kind of…dirty weekend vibe, Jinksy?” she asked, with a sly grin.

“Now that you come to mention it, Claudia, they do have that sort of vibe about them. Ladies, would you care to comment?”

Helena and Myka exchanged a long look, and then sighed.

“Fine. What do we need to do to make you all go away so we can go and unpack and shower and change?” Myka asked.

“Well, just tell us what happened, Myka!” Claudia said impatiently.

“Well, it turns out that not only couldn’t I lie, but I couldn’t behave in a way that the artefact would interpret as lying. Which meant that I kept waking up in Helena’s bed. The second morning I woke up naked in her bed, and I was kissing her neck. And later on Christmas Day, she gave me a gift and I couldn’t help but tell her how I felt,” Myka said, her face blazing.

Claudia stared at her for a long moment, then looked at Helena, who simply nodded.

“No frakking way did we finally get an artefact that broke down the Bering wall!” Claudia said, doing what very much looked like a dance of glee.

“The Bering wall?” Helena murmured to Steve.

“You know, like the Berlin wall?” Steve said, smirking. It was Helena’s opinion that Claudia and Pete had been a terrible influence on Steve.

There was some more crowing from Claudia, a reluctant handshake from Pete, and hugs from the others before they were given leave to go upstairs. Their “family” Christmas dinner was set for later in the day, but for now they had time to unpack, rest and clean themselves up. They ended up, however, fast asleep in one another’s arms on Myka’s bed, their suitcases abandoned. Claudia came to fetch them a little later, and stood at the doorway watching them with a delighted smile on her face. Helena’s head was on Myka’s shoulder, her face lost in Myka’s hair, and their arms were around one another.

“Frakking cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Claudia whispered, and Steve spoke quietly from behind her.

“Are they still asleep?”

“Yeah,” Claudia said. “Let them sleep for a while. They deserve it. It’s about time.”

Steve smiled serenely.

“And the truth will set you free…” he murmured. Claudia smiled back.

Steve offered his arm to Claudia, and they stepped jauntily downstairs to begin the celebrations, waiting for their friends to join them when they awoke.

Merry Christmas!


End file.
